Page 68 of Craving Dahlia

“I don’t believe you.” The words come out more raw than I expected, and even Dahlia looks slightly taken aback at the sound of my voice, as if she can hear the hurt in it, too.

“I started to care about you,” she hisses. “After the appointment, after today…even before that…I was starting to feel something for you. Iknowsomething happened to you. I started to give a shit, and who knows? Maybe if you’d ever told me a single shred of the truth, if you’d opened up to me one tiny goddamn bit, maybe this could have been something.” Her hand tightens on the front of her towel, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles are white. “But I’m not going to tear myself apart for a man who won’t even tell me the truth about himself.”

My vision goes white. For a moment, all I feel is hot anger that burns in a flash and then turns ice cold. I can feel myself shutting down every wall that she’d started to chip away at resealing in an instant at that sentence.

I stalk towards her, and I see her flinch, but she holds her ground. She stares up at me, unyielding, and I reach out, gripping her chin between my fingers as I meet her eyes.

“You have no idea,” I say slowly, “what it feels like to be torn apart.”

Dahlia swallows hard, and I can feel her trembling. “If you can’t be the kind of man who’s honest with me,” she whispers, “then you’re not the kind of man I want to be a father to my child. We’ll both be fine on our own.” She draws in a shaky breath. “I should never have married you?—”

“Finally,” I bite out. “Something we agree on.”

And then I let go of her, turning on my heel and stalking out of the room.

23

DAHLIA

Iwatch Alek go, still trembling, still feeling the touch of his fingers on my skin where he gripped my jaw as he stared down at me.

You have no idea what it feels like to be torn apart.

I heard the pain in his voice. I heard it all through every word he said. He looked like he was in physical pain, as well as emotional, although I can’t imagine why. And I felt, for just a moment, like he was close to admitting to me what he’s been hiding all this time.

But then he shut down. He said all of that to me—things that I already knew, but had hoped might be changing. I hadn’t even realized that Ididhope it was changing until he said it all out loud again, and it felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Like all the air had been knocked out of me.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper to the empty room, staring at the door that Alek just slammed behind him. He’s right, this marriage was a failsafe. A way to keep myself afloat until I could figure something else out. I never intended for it to be anything else, but at that doctor’s appointment?—

I shake my head, shoving aside that memory, and the one of Alek and I together after that terrifying fight in the parking lot of Sal’s, and today at the museum. I push it all out of my head, because there’s no use in dwelling on any of it.

We’re done.

I can’t do this any longer. I can’t let him keep slipping under my skin, making me want him, pulling down my defenses—only to go cold again. And I’m tired of wanting a man who lies to me at every turn. Who won’t give me even a moment of real vulnerability unless we’re both naked.

Who, even then, won’t let me see him without his clothes on. I’ve never seen Alek naked. Never even seen more than just his face and hands.

“I’m so fucking done,” I say out loud, the words echoing, and I grab my duffel bag, starting to shove clothes and toiletries into it as I grab a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to throw on.

I’ll go to a hotel. I’ll figure something out. Living at the mansion has meant my last paycheck has mostly gone untouched, so I still have a few thousand dollars in my account. Enough to get me by until I can find an affordable apartment, something outside of the city. I’ll have to commute, and find childcare once the baby is born, but I’ll figure it out?—

I don’t know how I’ll figure it out. But what I know right this second is that I can’t spend another minute under the same roof as Alek Yashkov.

Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I call an Uber, my thoughts so cluttered and racing so fast that I barely notice what destination I put in for the driver. It’s not until a half-hour later, when the Uber pulls up in front of my old apartment building, that I realize I put it in out of habit.

The driver sees me hesitating, glancing back towards me. “This is the right spot?”

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I mutter, sliding out of the car. It’s not the right spot—my apartment is someone else’s by now, but I have a strange urge to go up anyway. To look at where I used to live. It’s stupid, I know, and I’d be better off just getting to a hotel and crashing so I can text Evelyn and explain everything. When she realizes I’m gone in the morning, she’s going to freak out and tell me to come back, and I’m going to have to explain to her that I can’t do that.

I just can’t.

I let myself into the building, standing for a long moment in the quiet, cool lobby. It’s achingly familiar, and I feel my eyes sting with tears as I look around, taking it all in. I walk to the elevator, shifting the bag on my shoulder, wondering why I’m bothering with any of this. It won’t give me back my apartment, or fix any of the problems in my life, but the familiarity soothes and hurts at the same time, and I keep walking.

In the elevator, I lean back against the mirrored wall, trying not to think about Alek. I breathe in the familiar scents of lemon floor cleaner and old wood, pushing the button for my floor as I pretend, just for a moment, that I’m going home. That my life isn’t full of uncertainties that I’m not sure how to face.

The elevator chimes, and I get off. I walk to the door of my old apartment, and from what I can see, it doesn’t look like anyone has moved in yet. I can’t be sure, but there’s no sounds from inside, no doormat out front, nothing to suggest that someone is living there. That eases the ache in my chest a little, and I just stand there for a long moment, staring at the door. I want to go in, but I’m not quite so nostalgic that I’d risk breaking and entering just to see my old place again.

Right?

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